Forever Lost Soul
by Bloody Dead Rose
Summary: What if Darth Sidious wasn't the one to take over the galaxy? what if it was someone else? Someone that we know? Major AU. ch.5 is up!
1. Darkness

Chapter 1  
  
Eternal darkness  
  
"Whoever struggles with monsters must watch that he does not become a monster. When you stare into an abyss for a long time, the abyss also stares into you." - Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche  
  
Darkness. That's all he ever saw anymore. He was sickened by its pure and constant blandness, and he choked at its thickness. Darkness and pain were his life, clutching him and holding him down, suffocating him like the deepest fires of Hell.  
  
It hadn't always been like that though. There was once color, and laughter and music. It all seemed like an old photograph now, painted in the back of his mind like a forgotten dream.  
  
What brought him into this predicament? Trust. He had trusted the Jedi, he had trusted Qui-Gon, and they betrayed him. They left him there to die in that slave pit of doom, left him to bleed, and burn, until his own tears fell so swiftly that he drowned in them. The mission to Telos should have been a routine one, but it wasn't. It really wasn't.  
  
"Keep moving!" The voice rang out, echoing against the cave walls, but it fell like a whisper on his ears.  
  
The tip of a whip licked his back, sending jolts of pain throughout his body, He had grown use to it though, and when someone grows use to pain enough so that they no longer feel it, you know that hope for their soul is lost.  
  
That was what this boy had lost. His soul was gone forever, and the whip and the blade broke his spirit. The realization that they weren't coming for him, that they would leave him there to die, broke his heart. He was broken, just like a broken circle.  
  
He may have been broken, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't die. No, he wouldn't die. Anger coursed though his body and mind like heroin through an addict's veins. He had too much revenge to seek, and everyone knows that is sweet.  
  
A/N: Short I know, but the next chappie will be longer. Please review! 


	2. Slaves

Kenobisaqt: *in don't say a word voice* I'll never tell... *normal voice* Actually I will, just not till the third chapter.  
  
Thank you all who reviewed!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Maybe Hope  
  
"It is not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog." - Mark Twain  
  
20 years later....  
  
It was raining. It had been raining for days, making the grounds treacherous and causing floods. The constant fall shocked everyone. It was, after all, Coruscant, who ever heard of endless rainfall there?  
  
Of course, Didi declared to any Jedi or ally of the Jedi who would listen that the rain was purposely trying to stop them. Them being the resistance force against the Empire, Them being the last remaining Jedi.  
  
There were thousands of Jedi before the hostile takeover of the republic. Then, a terrible thing happened. There was an explosion. No, the word explosion doesn't do what happened justice. It was a catastrophe, a dooms day. The air reeked of death and destruction for months after it. The temple had blown, and how the Jedi did not sense the danger, no one knows. Some say it was an inside job done by someone who was close to the Jedi, others say that it was inevitable, and that the Jedi were never that powerful. They say that it was all an act, and that they were just talkers. No one will ever know, unless of course the emperor suddenly decided to share all with his "people." The odds of that happening were very slim indeed.  
  
Only four Jedi survived the explosion, Yoda, Mace Windu, a small child named Una Halo who was with Yoda at the time, and Garen Muln. Everyone else either was on a mission or died. By the time the remaining Jedi were able to regroup there were only forty-six. Twelve decided to walk; seven were killed in various battles within the next year. Twenty-seven warriors, even if they were Jedi, would be no match for the thousands of droids and soldiers that the emperor had. Therefore, they had to wait, and do for the people what they could.  
  
Siri shivered as the rain came down harder. She and her apprentice Ferus had been on a mission to Malaster when the Jedi massacre had come about.  
  
She entered the small abandoned café that had once belonged to Didi and Astri. She dropped her cloak to the floor and bent down by the makeshift fire.  
  
"We were getting worried," said Adi, who had also been on a mission when the Jedi had been killed.  
  
"I had to avoid the Corts," explained Siri. The Corts were the emperor's police, corts being a word from the old language of Telos, meaning death. "They were doing card checks."  
  
Ever since the emperor took over everyone had to carry a card that stated their name, age, occupation, species, and a serial number. The serial number, if typed into the guard's handheld computers, brought up everything but the person's favorite color. All the person's medical records, their previous jobs, a picture of their prints, everything. Obviously, the former Jedi didn't carry cards. It'd be like putting up a flashing neon sign that said "Jedi here."  
  
"Thank the force they didn't catch you," breathed Adi as she handed Siri a drink. "Where's Ferus?"  
  
"He's escorting Nikka back to the castle, he knows how to hide better then she does, we wouldn't want her getting caught," answered Siri.  
  
"No, that could ruin everything," agreed Adi.  
  
Nikka was a servant in Emperor Conleth's castle. At least, she was a servant if you used the term "servant" loosely. Slave is the word that Siri would have picked. Nikka was also the Jedi's greatest ally.  
  
"Did you get the castle blueprints?" Mace asked, straight to business as usual.  
  
"Yes," said Siri, pulling the papers from the protective area of her cloak. "I don't see what good they will do though, we don't even know if this stone even exists, let alone if it's in the emperor's castle."  
  
"To be completely honest Siri, I don't see their use either," admitted Mace. "Garen asked me for them, he wouldn't give me all the details why. I intend to send them to him on Dagobah."  
  
"When is he getting back?" Adi asked.  
  
"I'm not sure, but what I do know is that we're in for an interesting conversation when he does."  
  
~*~  
  
Zackery tried to get down from the palace window without a sound, he really did, But unfortunately fate was against him.  
  
The palace was his prison, his cage that held him in and trapped him. It kept him from being himself, and he could only do what Emperor Conleth allowed him to do. So, he threw a rope from his bedroom window and started climbing out.  
  
As he slid down the rope, by some mad coincidence, the maid a level above him decided that she was going to throw her garbage out her window. Why she did this he'll probably never know, but what he did know was that a split second later a bag of filth came crashing down on his head, knocking him cleanly off the rope. Now that my friends is bad luck.  
  
What's worse? He somehow managed to hit every garden window ledge, every speeder, and anything else that might have been in the air underneath him. He also did quite a bit of yelling, as would anyone. Add all this together, throw in a couple hundred guards trained specially to listen for such things, and you have Zackery's scenario.  
  
He hit the ground with a loud thump, his entire body aching. He groaned a little before shoving himself to his feet and limping to a nearby alley as quickly as he could. Which, considering the fact that he had just fallen who knows how many feet, was not very fast. He bit his tongue and prayed to whoever might be listening to keep the guards from finding him.  
  
"Stupid slaves, always trying to run away," he heard a nearby voice say. Husky, obviously male. "Why can't they just be happy that they have food and shelter? Why do they need their freedom? It's overrated."  
  
"What I want to know is how they're deactivating their collars," came another voice, this one female.  
  
The collars that they spoke off were tracking devices placed on slaves that, when they got a certain distance from the palace without permission, would kill them. In explanatory terms, it could blow their heads from Coruscant to Telos. Very few of the collars still worked though. One slave discovered the secret to disarming the collar, and that was to run it under a nuclear hot light. At first this was out of the question, the radiation in a nuclear hot light would kill them just as easily as the collar itself. Then a new invention was made. A kilarian technician invented a tool used mainly for thieves who wanted to break into an aristocrat's home. The slaves found use for them, at least one part of them. The power cell of the thief's tool was the same thing that powered a nuclear hot light. Therefore, nearly everyone's collars were disengaged.  
  
It was common knowledge that the slaves could walk out at any moment, even the emperor himself knew. Why he didn't do anything about it, no one knew. Maybe he knew that the slaves wouldn't leave because they feared him too much. Zackery had stopped guessing years before. He knew that he would never be able to desecrate the layers of Emperor Conleth's mind.  
  
A third voice floated to his ears.  
  
"What are you looking for?" Female, middle-aged. Scared, tired, sad, her husband had died the month before and she was left trying to raise three children with no help from anyone..... her emotions washed over Zackery all at once, enveloping him so deeply that he could barely breath.  
  
//Stupid power//, he silently though. //It's never there when I need it, but always there when I don't want it.//  
  
Zackery was so lost in his own thoughts and his attempts to erase the woman's grief from himself that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, and that can be dangerous when you're a palace runaway.  
  
The next thing he knew, two rough arms had wrapped themselves around him, and all thoughts of the women were gone. He struggled against the guard, but he was so small compared to him.......  
  
"Be careful," the woman snapped at her partner. "Don't hurt him, do you know who this is?"  
  
"Let me go," Zackery managed to yell.  
  
"Oh, I don't think so," said the male guard. "Emperor Conleth is going to be very pleased with us for bringing you back."  
  
"And what right do you have to take him?" Zackery stopped struggling as a calm, terse voice floated to his ears.  
  
"Empire business," said the woman, who Zackery, after getting a good look at her, remember her name was Zheara. "Move along gramps."  
  
The man stepped out from behind the shadows. He was dressed simply, and had long brown hair dusted with light gray.  
  
He smiled warmly at them before lifting a hand about mid high. "This boy is not who you are looking for, he said in a silky voice. "Perhaps you should go back to the Emperor and tell him that the slave got away."  
  
"He's not who we're looking for," the female guard said to her comrade in an unintelligent voice. "We should go back to the palace."  
  
The man dropped Zackery and followed the female out of the alley.  
  
He stared at their retreating backs in shock before looking up at the man. "How did you do that?"  
  
"A trick I learned several years back. You're a slave in the palace, correct?" The men walked over and stood in front of Zackery. His blue eyes cut through him, making Zackery think that he could read his every thought.  
  
"Yes," Zackery said softly. "That's why the guards were after me, I was running away from the palace."  
  
The man studied Zackery for several moments, silently dissecting him. Zackery shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"I know of a safe haven where you can hide," the man said calmly. "My name is Qui-Gon."  
  
A/N: Please Review! 


	3. True Face of Conleth

Lady Raven of the Stars- thanks! You'll find out who the emperor is in this chapter!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"A candle loses by lighting another candle." -unknown  
  
Nikka slid through the kitchen window, careful not to make a sound.  
  
She leaned her head out the window and whispered into the night air, "thank you."  
  
A man cloaked in black stepped deeper into the shadows and went at a run back down the street through which they had come, back to his friends.  
  
~*~  
  
The door to the old café swooshed open and a cowled figure in black strolled in.  
  
"What did I miss?" he asked as he flipped his hood back to reveal a dark hair and a handsome face.  
  
"Hello to you too Ferus," said a young girl in her early twenties. Brown curls fell her face that usually wore a mischievous grin.  
  
Siri smiled slightly. Una Halo had only been a child when the Jedi were disbanded, but even though she didn't have that secure environment she never strayed from her path, and never lost her good humor. She was quite remarkable.  
  
Ferus grinned at Una before lowering himself into a lotus position on the ground.  
  
"You didn't miss much," said Mace in reply to the earlier question. "Some information about the guards security plans, some sarcastic remarks-"he glanced bemusedly at Una, "and............."  
  
His sentence was cut short when the doors opened for the second time in so many minutes.  
  
"Hi Qui-Gon," said Una, waving. She and Qui-Gon had always gotten along. Mace said it was because they both shared a blatant disregard for the rules.  
  
Her smile faltered slightly when she caught sight of the figure behind him.  
  
"Who's he?" Adi asked cautiously.  
  
"A runaway slave of the emperor," replied Qui-Gon, ushering the teenage boy inside. "His name is Zackery."  
  
Zackery smiled at them weakly, obviously uncomfortable. Of course, you would be too if a group of people made out to be extinct were suddenly right in front of you.  
  
"Where did you work?" Asked Mace , his features never changing. "How did you escape the guards?"  
  
"I was............. A worker for the emperor.............. I helped him with government decisions," said Zackery cautiously. "I climbed out a window and........ had a little fall. Qui-Gon helped with the guards."  
  
"I see," said Mace. "Well make yourself comfortable, I need a word with Qui-Gon." He stood and laid a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder, steering him outside.  
  
Once they were outside Mace started to speak. "You trust too easily. How can you be sure this child is true? The emperor has many spies."  
  
"The boy is good, I can sense it," Qui-Gon looked at Mace, "And there's something else........."  
  
"He's force sensitive," Mace finished, his eyes darkening. "I sensed it too, which is why I don't trust him. The emperor some how knew how to break into the temple, I'm sure that he would know a force sensitive child when one was right under his nose."  
  
"But you must have sensed the good within him as well?" Said Qui-Gon. "The boy was in trouble what was I to do?"  
  
Mace sighed. "I understand Qui-Gon, and it's too late to change things now anyway, but I'm worried nonetheless."  
  
"Have a little faith," said Qui-Gon, turning to the door.  
  
"I try, but everyday it seems like my faith and hope are running more and more thin."  
  
~*~  
  
"So let me get this straight," said Conleth coolly. "Zackery was standing right in front of you, with no blaster or any other form of weapon, but yet, you didn't bring him back?"  
  
Zheara and Ecra, Zackery's chasers, kneeled before their ruler with shaking hands. They were done for now, they could feel it in every bone of their body.  
  
"Yes, your majesty," said Zheara, not looking up. If it had been anyone else she would have lied, and made Zackery out to be heavily armed with friends. Preferably very large friends. However, she didn't stand before just anyone, she stood before the Emperor of the galaxy, the man who could cut through anyone's mind like scissors through paper. He would have discovered her lie before she had time to take a breath.  
  
"But I can explain," she added on quickly.  
  
"Really? Then by all means explain," his face never changed, not that she could see it very well. He always wore a hood that sent shadows across his features, threatening anyone who thought to challenge him. The shadows cloaked his face like the shadows that cloaked his heart.  
  
"We were intercepted be a man," she said. "He helped the boy-"  
  
"So this man was a warrior?" The emperor asked.  
  
"No," answered Zheara. "He might have been, but we never saw a weapon."  
  
"So how did he get past you, two of my best guards?"  
  
Zheara knew that she had to choose her words wisely; they could very well be her last.  
  
"He used a mind trick, I believe," she said slowly, terrified at what the outcome of this may be. "It was as if he could control our every thought."  
  
To Zheara and Ecra's shock the emperor waved his hand and said, "very well, you are free to go."  
  
They were surprised, but stupidity did not catch them in it's tentacles. They were out of there before you could blink.  
  
"You don't think............?" said a voice of a man behind the emperor. It was Kikere, Conleth's most trusted guard.  
  
"I don't know," said the emperor, flipping back his hood. "I thought that I took care of the Jedi, but I guess that I was mistaken. No problem though, I'll simply track Zackery, and when I find him I'm positive that I'll find the Jedi."  
  
Conleth and Kikere both smiled, and the pale scar on Conleth's cheek glistened.  
  
~*~  
  
"Master," the boy asked. "These slave owners are fiends, and Crion's the worst one. We shouldn't split up, that could be our worst mistake."  
  
"You're right my padawan," said Qui-Gon with a sigh. "But we cannot shirk our duties. We were called here to save this planet from the corrupt leaders, and save Telos we shall."  
  
"Of course master."  
  
"Do not look like this is the galaxies end," said Qui-Gon, placing a reassuring hand on the teenagers shoulder. "We will see each other again, I would never let you fall toll to the evil that sleeps in this world."  
  
The boy smiled weakly back at him, though he felt the dread of darkness in his heart.  
  
~*~  
  
Qui-Gon awoke with a shiver, the claws of icy heartache tearing at him. His dream........... it was of the last mission that he had had with his padawan learner, the last mission with that once promising boy.  
  
He shook his head. It was not a Jedi's way to dwell on things, but he couldn't help himself. Every time he saw a young man with blue eyes, someone with exceptional talent, he always that about the young boy that he had failed. The guilt ripped him apart.  
  
Maybe that's what drew him to Zackery. The boy was in trouble, and it was true that Qui-Gon had always carried a soft spot for the troubled, but that wasn't all that was there. The boy was almost like a replacement for the one that Qui-Gon had lost.  
  
He silently shook himself. It's been twenty years you old fool, he silently scolded. Twenty years, you've had enough time to grieve his loss. He's dead, that much has been made clear. Move on. You shouldn't need closure anymore.  
  
Despite his thoughts, Qui-Gon knew that he was fooling himself. He had lost something very dear to him. People always prepare themselves to lose their parents, maybe even their spouses and siblings, but they're never prepared to lose a child, and that's what the boy was, his child. How does one get over the loss of everything that they themselves would have died for?  
  
He stood up and walked over to Siri, who was awake and keeping watch for any storm troopers. She was also keeping an eye on their young guest, to look for any trickery.  
  
He touched her shoulder. "You can go to sleep," he said softly, not wanting to wake the others. "I'll take it from here."  
  
She nodded and walked off sleepily.  
  
Qui-Gon sat down and looked casually out the window. Coruscant was beautiful once, with shining sunsets and glistening buildings that looked as soft to the touch as shimmer silk. Not now though. Now it was a deserted war zone, a world as bad as the crimson corridor. It was overrun with gangs and crime lords, who cared more about power and wealth then they did the beauty around them. Little Punks who spent more time "decorating" old buildings than studying. The galaxy had gone to hell, for lack of a better term.  
  
And the part that bothered Qui-Gon the most? He couldn't do a thing about it.  
  
~*~  
  
He moved quieter and stealthier than a cat, but he could strike faster than a snake. He had spent years at that hippie temple, learning how to control his mind and his body. He was taught how to manipulate the laws of physics to suit his own needs and wants. The wisdom that they bottle fed him was pre-chewed and tasteless, but some things paid off. He was confident that his tracking skills, for one, were the most advanced in the galaxy.  
  
Conleth usually didn't do his own dirty work, that's what the storm troopers were for, but with Zackery he made an exception. That boy was really trying his patience though.  
  
Not that getting out again didn't make him feel alive again. It sent him straight back to his adolescent years, were he would go tracking a fellow Jedi with Qui-Gon as a game on some remote planning..................  
  
And the good feelings were gone just as fast as they had come, and replaced with pure loathing. That man had taken everything form him, and he would pay dearly.  
  
Suddenly Conleth's acute senses caught something. A whiff of old scent, a force sensitive presence, a faint voice. They were near, so near to his own palace that is made Conleth's hair prickle. They had been there, hiding in plain sight right in front of his temple the entire time and he hadn't noticed. Hatred seized his heart, the hatred that twenty years before he would have been ashamed of. But now he grasped it, and let it wrap tightly around him. Feeding him and helping him grow. He smiled darkly and pulled out a comlink.  
  
"Kikere, we've got them."  
  
~*~  
  
The gentle strands of dawn glided through the holes in the board work and the few windows that weren't boarded up. The soft rays warmed the Jedi's sad souls and lightened their heavy loads.  
  
Qui-Gon watched the boy as he stirred awake. He watched those shockingly familiar blue eyes open groggily. "Do you people always get up this early?"  
  
Qui-Gon smiled. Maybe he did need the closure after all.  
  
His warm thoughts were lost in an instant though as a loud blast filled and racked him ears, and dust flew around his eyes. Voices swam around his head as he tried to sort out what was going on.  
  
"You're all under arrest," a voice form within the dust announced calmly, clearly and loudly. "Come with us alive or dead, the choice is yours."  
  
As the smoke and dust cleared Qui-Gon's heart broke. They were surrounded, inside the old café and outside of it. There was a hundred guards at least, and one man cowled in black standing in the middle of it with a smile painted across his face.  
  
Qui-Gon inhaled a sharp breath. It was Obi-Wan.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Confused? Don't worry I'll explain everything. 


	4. The Way Things Are

Asmodeus1389- yeah, I wanted to confuse people and shock them. Everything is explained in full detail here.  
  
Xanatos' Lady of the Stars- Yeah, I was kind of going for that. Thanks. BTW, I like your story.  
  
Kenobisaqt- Here you go, full explanation.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Better to rule in Hell then serve in Heaven. -John Milton  
  
Flashback  
  
After training for hours at the temple Obi-Wan might have commented to a passing friend that he was exhausted. He never truly grasped exhaustion until he found himself working in these mines. He could collapse on a pile of stalagmites at the end of the day and sleep comfortably. His bones held a fatigue that was unexplainable. A fierce weakness was on him every second.  
  
He lay on the cold, wet floor, and his own blood dripped down his throat. He has tasted more blood in the last year then he had food and water.  
  
Breathing hurt. Everything hurt.  
  
"Do you see now?"  
  
Obi-Wan didn't glance over. He knew who it was, and Xanatos was not worth his scarce energy.  
  
"Where is your precious master now Kenobi? Where is Qui-Gon when you truly need him?" Xanatos bent down next to Obi-Wan. "It's been a year. He's not coming. He's betrayed you just like he betrayed me. Do you honestly forgive him for that?"  
  
"No," the word escaped Obi-Wan's mouth before he even fully comprehended Xanatos' words.  
  
"Then join me, I can give you the life that you want and deserve. No more code, no more pointless help, no more riddles. I'll be your master, and I promise that I won't betray you." Xanatos' hand reached out, a token of friendship.  
  
Obi-Wan took it.  
  
End of Flashback  
  
The Jedi didn't fight Conleth's guards. What would be the point? They were vastly outnumbered. Besides, none of them were really sure if they could handle having to fight Obi-Wan. They cared about him too much. Which is probably why the were in a damp, cold cell and he was in a throne room somewhere.  
  
"This bites," said Una, leaning against the wall. "Captured by one of our own."  
  
"Are you all right?" Siri asked Qui-Gon gently.  
  
"I thought that he was dead," Qui-Gon spoke softly, almost to himself.  
  
"We all did," Garen cut in now. "It's not your fault."  
  
Self-blame was not the Jedi way. They didn't dwell in the past, they looked to the future. Qui-Gon knew this, but he could not accept it. He did blame himself for Obi-Wan's turn. It happened with two of his apprentices, how could it not be his fault?  
  
"I still can't believe it," mumbled Siri. "He didn't always follow the code, but he never was.................. he didn't seem..............."  
  
She couldn't grasp a complete thought to explain the betrayal that washed over her. None of them could. It was, after all, one of the most promising students showing all the traits of the Sith here.  
  
A soft humming rang through their small dungeon, waking them all from their morbid thoughts. Someone was coming in. They were all immediately on their guard.  
  
"I'm sorry," a voice whispered, his form covered in darkness.  
  
"It's not your fault Zackery," Qui-Gon pulled his tired body off the ground with a great deal of effort.  
  
I'm getting too old for this, he silently thought.  
  
"But it is," Zackery's voice cracked slightly. "I should have known that he would find me."  
  
"Yeah, you should have," said Una harshly.  
  
Ferus laid a hand on her shoulder, a silent reprimand.  
  
"I shouldn't have lied either," he's voice was barely audible now.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Siri.  
  
"I'm not a slave-"his sentence was cut off when a second humming sounded. A haunting figure sauntered into the room, his black cloak billowing behind him.  
  
The figures light blue eyes shot daggers at Zackery. He took an involuntary step back. Obi-Wan's attention went back to the Jedi.  
  
"So, we meet again. How long has it been, twenty, maybe twenty-five years? And I didn't even get one letter."  
  
No one spoke. Some didn't even breathe. Their lives were in this man's hands, and hatred seemed to be seeping from every pore of his being. What had they done?  
  
"What happened to you?" Siri demanded.  
  
A question that they all were wondering, but only Siri was brave enough to ask.  
  
"What happened to me?! What happened?!" He didn't bother trying to hide the rage in his voice. "I was abandoned that's what happened!"  
  
He turned to Qui-Gon. "Don't you remember master?" he spat out. "We went on that mission to Telos, but only you returned. They kidnapped me and no one came to help. You don't know pain and emptiness until you've been an abused slave."  
  
"I thought you were dead," Qui-Gon whispered. It was the weakest anyone had ever seen him.  
  
"A thought? That's your excuse? You base my suffering on the assumption of death?" Obi-Wan's eyes turned chilling. "Or maybe you were just too scared to face Xanatos."  
  
"Xanatos................" Siri said softly. "You were trapped with Xanatos. That's what happened to you. He turned you."  
  
"Turned me? No, he spoke truth to me. I now understand the corruption and arrogance that is the Jedi. You sat there in your precious temple and set up an image of peacemakers and nurturers, while in truth all you thought about was how to increase your own power, your own wealth," a sick smile spread across his face. "That is, until I stepped in."  
  
He turned to Qui-Gon once again. "You did this to me. If you had saved me then maybe none of this would have happened. The Jedi would still be in power. Your friends wouldn't be dead. It's your fault, live with it." He turned and walked up the staircase, and when he was near the exit, he turned and added, "Live with it while you can."  
  
Zackery stood nervously outside the throne room. The emperor had summoned him down, and now he had to wait for however long the emperor decided he should wait.  
  
I wonder what my punishment will be, Zackery thought. He must be furious, first I run away, then I stay with the Jedi, then I sneak away from my studies to speak to them.  
  
The sliding doors opened, and Zackery walked in quickly. Dawdling would make Conleth even madder.  
  
The minute he was near the throne he kneeled down on to one knee and cast his eyes to the rug.  
  
"What were you doing in their cell?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes boring into Zackery.  
  
"I was apologizing," no point in lying, Obi-Wan would catch it in a minute anyway.  
  
"For getting them captured," it wasn't a question, so Zackery remained silently. The less he spoke, the more reduced his chances of saying something incriminating were.  
  
"Why did you run? You obviously knew I was going to catch you."  
  
The million credit question. He had to choose his words carefully. "I was hoping-"  
  
"That I'm getting old and losing my wits?" Obi-Wan rose and walked down the throne steps until he was standing in front of Zackery.  
  
"No, just that I could get away," Zackery felt as if he was fighting a losing battle.  
  
Obi-Wan reached down and yanked him to his feet. "Look around," he pointed out the window to the large buildings and statues that were erected in his honor. "This is what I have built, and believe me it wasn't easy. You've been privileged, no one else in the galaxy has as many opportunities as you, and now you wish to throw them away? Why? Because some people died for all of this? Because our punishments are harsh? I suggest you find a bandage for that bleeding heart of yours. This is the way things are. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Zackery looked into his eyes for the first time since he entered the throne room, then sighed sadly. "Yes father."  
  
A/N: Howdy ya'll. Sry the chappies so short but I wanted to update and I wanted a cliffie so I hope that you were still able to enjoy it. Please review! 


	5. Master and Apprentice

Laura- I'm glad you like evil Obi-Wan, I worked really hard trying to figure out how he should act. Thanks for telling me that I made Zackery kind of wimpy, I didn't even realize it. I'll try to fix it, I don't think that Obi-Wan would have a wimpy son either.

Gemini- Don't worry, I'm going to mention Xanatos a lot cause he had a huge part in Obi-Wan's turning. Plus I love him to death. ;p

Chapter 5

Life's like a box of matches, sometimes the whole thing catches, and all you can do is watch it burn.

-Mindy McCready

Flashback

Obi-Wan had never known, he had never thought about all the corruption in the temple. Now that he was with Xanatos everything suddenly clicked, he had a sudden understanding of everything that they had hid from him. He had never felt so much hate, and it haunted him that if Xanatos hadn't come along he would have lived and died in their corruption, licking up every hypocritical saying and righteous thought like a thirsty puppy. The thought of being one of their mindless droids horrified him.

This information squeezed his heart as he heated up the broken piece of metal. A ring that he had sliced through the side of so that the ends didn't meet. He was entirely devoted to Xanatos now, and he was going to prove this by burning the dark jedi's trademark into the soft flesh of his cheek. This was his symbol for pain, hatred, and most importantly revenge.

End of flashback

Zackery had never felt so worn as he did when he walked from the Emperor's throne room.

The conversations that Zackery and Obi-Wan shared were never enjoyable for either of them. Obi-Wan wanted a son who was as ruthless and untouchable as he himself was, and Zackery wanted a father who accepted him. The only difference was that Obi-Wan intended to make Zackery the son he wanted, no matter the cost.

Zackery keyed in the opening number to his room. 5-13-98, it was the date that his mother died and his father became worse then ever. It was easy to remember.

He treaded into his room and sat on his bed, weariness nearly making him collapse. He had yanked off his shirt and boots when a soft growl echoed through the room. Zackery immediately flicked the light switch, only to find that it wasn't working. His door wouldn't open either.

Then, before Zackery could even blink and before, even with his sharp reflexes, he could move, a creature with sharp teeth was clinging to his hand, drawing blood from his flesh. He was able to pry the creature off when two more grabbed his legs, and another his side. He knew what they were almost immediately, dinkos. Small creatures that work in groups, with razor sharp claws and teeth. They weren't native to any planets near by, but Zackery knew that his dear old dad had probably had them imported just for him, which would also explain why he couldn't turn on any lights or leave.

Zackery ignored the pain in his various body places and rolled to his bedside where his lightsaber sat. Or at least it would have if he hadn't taken it with him when he tried to run away and lost it when he fell out the window. He silently cursed himself as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a small dagger. He went first for the ones closest to his head and neck, and worked his way down. By the time they were all dead he was covered in sweat, spit, and blood.

Hate and anger coiled up like a whip in his chest, threatening to lash out. This was his punishment for betraying Obi-Wan, he knew it and accepted it, but what truly angered him was that these creatures could have killed him if he hadn't had that dagger, and his own father didn't even seem to care.

I must have done something extremely horrible in a past life to deserve this, thought Zackery as he climbed into the shower to wash away his bloody hands.

"I can't believe he lost his saber," said Obi-Wan in annoyance as he and Kikere watched Zackery pull out a dagger over the throne room monitor.

"He fights well," commented Kikere.

"Perhaps," shrugged the emperor. "But he's never entirely ready, he allows things to surprise him."

They watched Zackery lay down his dagger and gingerly walk around the dead creatures. Obi-Wan reached forward and turned the monitor off.

"He took too long in killing the dinkos," said Obi-Wan in annoyance.

"He only used a few min................" Kikere stopped himself in mid-sentence. Conleth was in a foul mood, and people tend to disappear when he gets like this. Even people like his right hand man.

"What are we doing about the Jedi?" Kikere asked, promptly and wisely changing the subject.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I haven't decided yet. Nothing seems harsh enough for my revenge, I want them to suffer – I want him to suffer." He reached up and traced the broken circle scar on his cheek, then spoke again. "Bring Qui-Gon to me, and bring him alone. We have things to discuss."

Kikere looked around in disgust as he treaded through the filth of the dungeons. No mercy and no humanity for the criminals of Conleth's galaxy, they receive the pleasure of spending the rest of their short lives in piles of garbage and human waste. Kikere was extremely annoyed that a man of his status had to trudge around in this mess like a lower class citizen. But when the Emperor told you to do something, you did it. He'd rather visit the dungeons then live in them.

He made his way to the farthest, dankest area of the dungeon where the Jedi were being held.

"You, come with me," he said, pointing at Qui-Gon.

No one had to ask where they were going and what was going to happen. They all knew that Obi-Wan wanted to speak to Qui-Gon, and quite possibly fight him. It was also very likely that this wouldn't be the last showdown between the master and the apprentice.

Qui-Gon had never felt so nervous in his life. Not even when he was a young boy on his way to see the council, or when he faced them for the trials. He had faced Xanatos before and come out alive, but this was different. This was like Xanatos and Obi-Wan inhabiting one body, both haunted by hurt, hate and pride. Obi-Wan was like a son to him, blood wouldn't have brought him closer to Qui-Gon's heart, but yet he was still going to have to face him if he wanted to get himself and the other Jedi out alive. It was a necessary act that he dreaded.

"A word of advice," Qui-Gon's escort spoke for the first time as they stopped outside the throne room doors. "Don't get preachy, he's already in a foul mood. And don't talk about Zackery unless he starts the conversation. If you want to survive, pretty much try to say things that will make him happy."

Qui-Gon heard Kikere's words and knew that they would be in his best interest, but he also knew that it was advise that he was not going to follow. He wanted to speak to Obi-Wan peacefully and maturely, not with some guidelines on how to keep the emperor happy. They may not be meeting on Qui-Gon's terms, but that doesn't mean that he can't still get what he wants out of this. The Obi-Wan that he trained had to be in there somewhere.

Kikere unlocked the door and followed Qui-Gon into the throne room. It was dark and plain, with only a flickering fire to light the room. Qui-Gon could smell the hate and evil in the air and it made him shiver. Qui-Gon's eyes rested on the silhouette in front of the fire.

"Leave us."

"Yes my lord," Kikere hurried out of the room.

Qui-Gon heard the soft click of the door locking.

Qui-Gon waited in silence, wanting Obi-Wan to be the first to speak. Knowing that they both had much to say that neither wanted to hear.

Obi-Wan spoke at last. "Are you enjoying your stay?" He asked mockingly.

"The bed's a little hard," replied Qui-Gon dryly.

"And the others?"

Qui-Gon's voice lost it's sarcasm. "The others don't deserve to be here, they are guilty of nothing."

Obi-Wan turned now, his teeth glinting in the light. "Everyone is guilty of something."

With that he reached in his cloak and pulled out a small tube-like object. It only took Qui-Gon a moment to realize what it was.

"My lightsaber," said Qui-Gon, not showing a sign of the annoyance that he felt.

"Yes," said Obi-Wan with the same mocking smile. The smile that resembled Xanatos so much. He tossed the hilt to Qui-Gon, who caught it in one fluid motion. Obi-Wan then pulled out his own saber.

"I don't want to fight you," said Qui-Gon calmly, though he felt as if his heart was being torn out.

"No, but you will," with that Obi-Wan leaped towards Qui-Gon so fast that he stumbled in shock.

Obi-Wan's attacks were like liquid, bending and twisting however he chose. His skill had improved so drastically that Qui-Gon had trouble registering the change. The darkness that erupted from Obi-Wan was deafening and blinding at the same time.

Every move that was made the other countered, every retreat followed. Neither of them knew how long they had been fighting for, but they were both dripping of sweat as if they had been swimming in a warm ocean. They could taste it in their mouths, it stung their eyes and clogged their throats. But they didn't stop. This battle was what would completely separate them from master and apprentice. If Qui-Gon won then Obi-Wan would have to accept that he had not grown as great as he thought, and if Obi-Wan won then Qui-Gon would have to accept that his apprentice was gone, lost to the labyrinths of the darkside.

Then, out of nowhere a strong force blast knocked Qui-Gon off his feet and sent his lightsaber flying from his sweaty hand into thin air. Obi-Wan swiftly caught it and smiled down at the beaten Jedi Master.

"Check and Mate master," he sneered. "My game."

A/N: Finally a new chappie! Enjoy!


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